A Devil's Vespertilio
by Tzimisce
Summary: It doesn't matter how careful you are when you travel to the past, you still end up changing things.


Author's Note: This story started out on a whim, mainly fueled by a few to many episodes of Batman Beyond. What can I say? I enjoyed the show emminesly and would love to see more of Terry. But as that won't happen, my little mind started pondering what if's and this was born. As of current I have a lot of little sections written but not a lot down that connects those pieces together. I'm uploading this to test the waters and see if this is worth a bit more time and effort or if it should do as it has done for the past while and just remain a fun diversion.  
For those interested the name means 'The Devil's Bat', and for those of you who are familiar with my work you know my love for latin. Calling it the devil's bat is just so bland... translate a word into another language and it sounds so much cooler.  
As always my stand rules apply, I do not own Batman Beyond or any of is characters, locations, or other DC related stuff. However original characters and plot are mine, please ask before using them in anything else. I can be contacted via the e-mail address assigned to this account. Thank you and enjoy!

* * *

It was fall in Gotham and that meant one thing. Foul weather. Lighting crackled across the heavens illuminating the skyline like fireworks. Ice water fell from the brooding sky in torrents, soaking everything and chilling anyone stupid enough to be outside to the bone. The drop in temperature had come early this year, daytime highs were in the fifties and nighttime lows were bordering on freezing. With the change in temperature had come the unending rain. Gutters ran over, roads and small streams flooded. People wondered why the flood drains were so deep; it was solely for this time of year. This frozen hell was the kind of weather that made even the criminals stay in their holes. It was the kind of night Terry would have loved.

Would have. Back when the suit was new to him he would have relished the chance to 'play'. New had been five years ago, he had long since learned the limits of his suit. Of course it also would have meant a short night for the Gothamite, and maybe the chance to see Dana. Not anymore. All it meant now was that he was going to spend his Saturday night listening in on the police frequencies and having to hear old man Wayne snore over the com. He gave a slight huff, and began contemplating how long it would take for the Batmobile to ice over. For a man of Bruce's age he was in amazing shape, and he could still best Terry anytime he wished, but on slow nights like this, his age tended to get the better of him. Not that Terry didn't have the same idea, and come three-thirty or four and all was well, he was going to retire early. But when you were Batman, things rarely went according to plan.

If it was because of the weather or act of Providence, at presciently four in the morning Terry found himself parking in the Batcave. Bruce was still dead to the world, Ace sat by his side silently guarding his aged master. The monotone drabble of the city's finest keeping them both company.

"I'm back Mr. Wayne." His voice nearly broke as he spoke, protesting the sudden use. His mentor stirred in his chair. The light from the monitors cast an eerie glow on the main control room. Apparently Bruce had fallen asleep earlier then Terry remembered, or maybe he was trying to save power by keeping the lights off. "I'm heading to my room to get some shut eye. I'm supposed to meet my Mom for lunch tomorrow." Bruce gave an approving nod. "I figure I'll be back early in the afternoon, did you get the chance to look at that essay for my lit. class?" College had been the next logical step after high school, and with a recommendation from Bruce Wayne himself, and a free ride from him too, how could he say no? Never mind he got his own private tutor who could probably school any of his teachers on any subject.  
"Yes I made a few corrections; I'll go over it with you when you get back in." The twenty-three year old nodded. He was a little older than his classmates, he was on the six year plan as he called it. But while the hours of high school he hadn't been able to work around, college had worked well with his nighttime occupation. And if anyone asked, he always could say that he spend most of his time helping Mr. Wayne and couldn't very well take a full load of classes and do that.

* * *

The ancient tome had come at a quarter the price she had expected to pay at the auction. The people with money seemed for focused on buying 'relics' and rubble then something of any value. Of course to them the book was useless. Time had done its worst on the small leather bound volume. The cover was cut and distressed hardly recognizable as leather, the pages it contained were nearly coming out of the binding, and the ink had nearly faded to the point it was debatable if the book had ever held any information. The entire manuscript had been severely damaged by water, but for someone of her particular talent, it was completely salvageable.

The winner of the auction, a young dark haired thing, put the item into a simple backpack and headed for the auction house door. The bag clashed horribly with her outfit. The auction had been a black tie affair, and her dress had been suitable but the bag was out of place for something so upscale. Most of the other guests were enjoying the gala in the main auditorium, she had opted to get to work restoring the book as soon as she could and forgo the merrymaking. A car was quickly called for her by one of the doormen and she slid into the back of the nondescript black car.

* * *

"Poetry is so stupid." Terry whined as he slumped back in his chair. "I mean why can't they just come out and say what they mean?"  
"Terry, poetry is a book without all the extra fluff."  
"Still! They may have put a lot in one sentence, but how do we know this is even supposed to mean anything? Who's to say it wasn't just written for fun?"  
"Sometimes it's not about intent, sometimes it about what you can get out of it." Terry gave an irritated sigh. "What if this was a clue? It's good practice."  
"I know, Riddler loved this stuff." A small smile grew on Bruce's face, happy to know that Terry understood at least how this could be a useful thing to decipher.  
"Good, now this here-" the old man's words were cut off by the door chime. Not the electronic chime of the gate sensor, or the security alarm, but the doorbell. The old fashioned doorbell. Terry was stunned that it worked. The problem was, who was able to get so close without setting off the security system, and why they had bothered to announce their presence now that they had managed to get so close to the mansion. It took him only seconds to pull up the security feed covering the front door.

On the doorstep of Wayne Manor stood two visitors. A man stood facing the door; he was in a black suit, immaculately cut, and the most unusual hair. A deep brooding red with a skunk stripe right down the front. The other visitor was a woman, probably near Terry's age. Her much more vibrant red hair was pulled up in a simple ponytail and the fitted black trench coat hugged her all too perfectly.  
"Let them in." Bruce said gruffly as he stood from the desk with less difficulty then Terry had seen in sometime.  
"Who are they?"  
"I know the man, and if the girls with him then she's fine."  
"You didn't answer my question."  
"Bring them to the sitting room, I'll be waiting."  
"Old man…"  
"Now McGinnis!" Terry was mildly shocked by the old man's outburst. Since he'd taken a room in Wayne Manor and graduated high school they had butted heads less. And now with the relationship with Dana on what was probably a permanent hiatus they'd almost become friends. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been fussed at besides for being a little too rough on the equipment.


End file.
